Violent Appetites
by Werewolf's Oneshots
Summary: Hannibal and Will both experience a need the other can fulfill. PWP. Not exactly romance. Non-lucid!Will, manipulative!Hannibal.


**Warnings: Dubious consent, non-lucid Will, blood**

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"The most violent appetites in all creatures are lust and hunger; the first is a perpetual call upon them to propagate their kind, the latter to preserve themselves." -Joseph Addison

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When Will came to his door after sunset one evening, smelling of the most savory concoction of lust and confusion and women's perfume, Hannibal could not resist the temptation. Tobias's escape left the doctor feeling unfinished, like losing an orgasm before climax. He was frustrated with his lack of control, and he had yet enjoyed his evening meal. Will's arrival was both ill-timed and just what he needed. The food was prepared, the table set, but now he could smell fresh game.

Hannibal paused near Will as he came in the door and let the call of fresh meat send a shiver down his spine; if he ever planned on killing Will this was an excellent opportunity. Yet his desire for the young man's company was strong. He could forge an intimate friendship, a partnership even, and the idea was new and intriguing to Hannibal. No, he wouldn't kill Will, at least not tonight.

He inhaled deeply as Will admitted to kissing Alana Bloom -and it was an admission, he sensed; Will felt he'd done something wrong here, be it the kissing or something after. He wanted confirmation from Hannibal that whatever he'd done hadn't been bad, like a child complaining to a parent about a scolding they hoped they didn't deserve. The man was frantic. He could practically hear the blood rushing to Will's loins. His arousal had been triggered by Alana and fueled by his nerves- a detail Hannibal would remember for later. It must be very uncomfortable, Hannibal thought, staring at Will. He loved what the pleading, uncertain look did to the young man's face. He loved how much Will needed him. He said words that sounded right, sounded like a psychiatrist would say, but words designed to keep Will's turmoil boiling. _Why come to me?_ he asked. Will didn't have an answer, and was looking at Hannibal with wide eyes in hopes the psychiatrist could provide one.

He could.

So he led Will to the kitchen, the proper place to prepare a meal. Faint smells of dinner lingered, acting like spices to the aromas wafting off Will. Hannibal's stomach growled. There was a bulge in Will's pants that he was trying to hide, turning away from Hannibal, trying to calm himself before saying something he'd regret. That wouldn't do, he thought, and reached a hand out to Will's shoulder, turned him to face Hannibal head on.

"You are lacking something you need," Hannibal said, keeping his voice calm and doctorly. Will needed to trust him, to want him, while still thinking he held the reins. Fortunately manipulating Will Graham was not strange territory to Hannibal. He'd had his fingers on Will's pressure points from the first time they met. He moved so Will was between him and the counter, and stepped in close, right on the edge of Will's personal space. Will took a step back, found himself backed against the counter, but didn't take his eyes off Hannibal. "Your expectations were specific and when Miss Bloom left, you felt unfinished. I had a similar experience just earlier today." He didn't clarify the context, not wanting Will's mind to wander too far. He took another step closer. Will didn't move away. He was still breathing heavy, sweating now. He didn't look quite lucid. This was going to work beautifully.

"And now you anxiously search for a solution." Hannibal stood now so close to Will he could feel the man's labored breath on his skin. He leaned slightly forward, towering over Will, dominating his personal space. Hannibal's body was lean but still larger than Will's, and he used that to his advantage, exuding control. He did not break eye contact as he removed his hands from his pockets and lightly brushed the front of Will's pants, pleased at the hardness he found there. He hooked one finger over Will's belt.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"We are going to help each other. We each have a strong desire that the other can fulfill; you an uncontrollable arousal, and I a terrible hunger." Hannibal tried his best not to imagine taking a skinning knife to Will's pale trembling flesh and instead look forward to the flavor he could tease out if him still living. There was a knife on the counter just behind Will, along with some other utensils, that he had neglected to put away earlier. He didn't pick it up. He wanted to see how long he could last.

"A hunger?" Will was saying, not comprehending and unsure he wanted to.

Hannibal put a hand on Will's face, testing his temperature using a comforting gesture. Will leaned into it, already wanting. He was warm, and if his face was warm he'd be even warmer down there. With a friendly smile Hannibal explained, "I haven't had dinner yet."  
He kneeled in front of Will, smelled his arousal, started working on his belt buckle slowly. He took every opportunity to slide his fingers up Wills shirt, exploring his belly. Will shivered under the sensation of Hannibal's fingers tracing the trail of hair from his navel downwards. First he stared down at his therapist in unbelieving shock, but it took only seconds for him to close his eyes and tilt his head back, leaning against the counter, holding its edge in an ever tightening grip. It took almost a minute for Hannibal to undo the buckle, always keeping his face and hands close to Wills loins. When it was undone he pulled the belt slowly from its loops. Will was rock hard by then, his cock straining under the fabric. Finally he pushed Hannibal's hands away with an impatient gasp and fumbled with the fastenings of his pants on his own. Then his pants were open at last.

Hannibal put one hand on the small of Wills back and pulled him closer, inhaling at his navel and working his way downwards with his lips. Sweat, lust, fear, skin, all warm under his tongue. He could feel Will shiver and, giving in, move his hips forward. Pleased, Hannibal pulled down the elastic of Will's boxers, down with his pants, exposed him.

"Cock is on the menu tonight," Hannibal said smugly. He had been right right, Will's desire and nerves was generating waves of heat. He took an experimental lick, starting at the underside of the base and going all the way to the head. Will jerked as if he hadn't expected it, did his best to hold back a tiny moan. His breathing was heavy, deep, not nearly as frantic as before.

He had to admit Will wasn't his type; his facial scruff was an accurate precursor to the amount of scruffy, curly hair he had over the rest of his body. But it didn't detract from the flavor. Skin that has never seen the sun has a pure, soft taste, Hannibal reflected, taking the head of Will's dick into his mouth again. He played the tip with his tongue, first enjoying the texture then the tiny burst of flavor from the precum. The subtle seasoning of Will's member made Hannibal suddenly crave more. He thought about the knife on the counter and he could feel his pupils dilate, just thinking of the blood he could be tasting. But he was distracted by another gentle thrust from Will, already wanting to speed things up. Hannibal increased the speed a bit, sure to keep his tongue forever exploring every inch as Will started to moan, and he kept one hand on his prize while the other went back up to rest on Will's stomach. He licked the head for a moment before taking the whole thing into his mouth. Will gasped from surprise and pleasure, and the older man wondered how long it had been since he'd felt like this.

Hannibal reached up and took Will's hand, guiding it to the back of his head. "Be rough," he said between licks.

Will tried to comply, easing his fingers through Hannibal's inexplicably neat hair as his face reddened in pleasure. "Ahh-! Hannibal-!" was all Will could answer, but as Hannibal increased the pace again Will's grip tightened, pulled him closer. He was getting close already, Hannibal could taste it. Will trembled beneath his tongue. He could not wait any longer- he reached around Will and grabbed the knife off the counter. For a moment he imagined plunging it into Will, stabbing right through his penis and ripping it upwards into his stomach, the life spurting out of Will even as he was in the deep throes of pleasure. But he didn't. With a careful speed Hannibal slashed the blade over his own hand. He took Will's cock and spread the blood over it, pumping it quickly, upping the pace, not giving Will the chance to see what was happening. Will was in ecstasy above him, mouth gaping and moaning. Hannibal took the whole cock in his mouth, and for a moment was taken over by the pleasure of blood spreading on his tongue- then Will gasped and his cock exploded, cumming almost violently into Hannibal's mouth. Hannibal could not help but bite down a little, just enough to test the firmness as Will came. He couldn't help but smile as he sucked the cum, swirling it around in the blood in the most delectable combination. He closed his eyes and slowed his pace, savoring the moment. Warm, tangy, salty, metallic, fleshy, delicious. Some flavors were worth getting on your knees.

Will's hand released its grip on Hannibal. Hannibal glanced up nonchalantly, smoothing his hair back. Will was staring down at him, feeling but not seeing. He'd be losing time now, Hannibal knew. Perfect.

He took a few minutes to lick Will completely clean of blood and cum. One of his hands still bled, though the flow had slowed to a seeping. The other still held the knife, and he entertained the image of cutting off Will's penis, chopping it like a sausage, and sauteing it with saffron as Will bled out on the kitchen floor, completely oblivious. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his lips, after licking all the juices he could from them, making sure he was presentable. Will stood silently, eyes unseeing, as Hannibal cleaned up around him, wrapped his hand, did up Will's pants. He packaged up the food in the dining room, figuring he could salvage the best parts in a stew. Despite Tobias's unexpected visit it had been quite the productive night. He helped Will into his coat, and the young bearded man said nothing as Hannibal guided him out the door.

The next week Will showed up in Hannibal's office looking nervous but not embarrassed, angry, or otherwise unsettled. He told Hannibal that he'd been having strange hallucinations, averting his eyes. The psychiatrist nodded sagely, analyzing, comforting, hinting nothing, and at the end of the session explained casually how he'd cut his hand while cooking, but the meal had been worth the lost blood.


End file.
